John Gray: The homeless have a heart, too

Billy Ray Harris is a homeless man in Missouri who, like many in his situation, has a favorite spot to beg strangers for money. Sarah Darling saw him shaking his empty cup and took pity on him, stopping to open her purse. Since there was loose change inside, she turned the purse upside down and shook what was there into his cup. He said thank you and she went on her way.

The next day she woke to an awful realization that sent a sick feeling to her stomach. She remembered that moments before she saw that homeless man on the street, her engagement ring was bothering her finger, so she took it off and placed it in her change purse for safe keeping. She immediately opened the purse but, of course, it was gone with those nickels and dimes she'd given away the day before.

It felt like a fool's errand, but she got in her car and headed back to the same place she saw Billy Ray the day before on the off chance he was still around. The homeless who panhandle often frequent the same places and, sure enough, there he was. Sarah approached him and before she could even ask, Billy Ray said, "Are you looking for your ring?" He then produced it from his pocket and gladly handed it back to her. It was a large diamond mounted on gold, surely worth thousands of dollars. Someone asked Billy Ray why he didn't take it to a pawn shop? He responded quite simply, "I may be homeless, but I still have some character."

Yes you do, Mr. Harris.

Advertisement

There's a misconception that every person living on the street must have done something to land themselves there. It's not always true. As this country struggles to find its economic footing, after enduring the worst crisis since the Great Depression, too many of our neighbors have slipped into the quicksand that goes by the name "poverty." How many of us who are OK financially today would quickly be in deep trouble if we lost our jobs? How many months could you survive if the money stopped coming in? Two? Four? Living paycheck to paycheck is the new normal in America.

My daughter has started volunteering at a local homeless shelter and I was surprised and a little saddened by one of chores she was assigned to do. Sometimes, after the meals are served and the beds occupied, she reads to the children. What are children doing there? They're homeless of course. We don't readily see them, but like characters from a Dickens novel, they too are part of the fabric that makes up our great Capital District.

Many years ago I was doing a story on the homeless and I told the man who ran the shelter that I never give money to the homeless because I don't want them spending it on alcohol -- as if my frugal ways were doing them some great service. He said to me, "Oh, that's smart John, but let me ask you something. Did you give the man a blanket? How about a warm coat or gloves? How about a sandwich? Surely you could make an extra sandwich at home and give that to the man you are so worried might drink alcohol." He was right, of course, to call me out on where I'd fallen short as a person who should be looking out for his fellow man.

On the coldest of nights and warmest holidays we think of these lost souls, but shoeless feet and empty stomachs don't vanish when no one is watching. The person who needs a hot meal on Thanksgiving also needs to eat the rest of the year. They sit in the shadows and trade pride for necessity, shaking a cup, hoping for a small gesture of kindness. Whether you turn out your pockets to give or turn your eyes away to ignore, know that is someone's son or daughter in a tough situation who, when asked as a child what they wanted to be when they grow up, never wrote the word "homeless." And behind the grime and vacant stare, there could be a person of great honesty and character. Just ask Sarah Darling.